Shielding the Suspect

by C. J. Miller

  They reached the bottom of the slope. Around them, children laughed, skiers waited in line at the lift and instructors gave advice to new skiers. It was good to disappear in the crowd, but Susan wanted to scream warnings. Was the assailant crazy enough to shoot at them here? Children were around! Families!

  Brady straightened and Susan caught his sharp intake of breath. He was in pain. “We don’t want to call attention to ourselves. I need a place to rest. We’ll try to blend for a couple of hours before getting a room. If the guy following us asks around, he might think we’ve moved on or hitched a ride out of here.”

  Her adrenaline slowed and Susan took a deep breath. Brady had a plan. They weren’t lost in the woods. She didn’t see their assailant following them. He wasn’t crazy enough to open fire into a crowd. Small doses of relief unwound the anxiety in her muscles.

  The public ladies’ room was nearby. “I need to wash up. Meet me back here?”

  Brady nodded. “I’ll step away and call Harris. I’ll keep my eye on the door and the slopes.”

  Susan felt his gaze burning into her until the bathroom door closed behind her.

  * * *

  Brady left Harris a voice-mail message that he was safe and then disconnected the call. The prepaid phone had limited minutes and battery life.

  In the Special Forces, Brady had been taught to blend. Though he was dirty and needed a shower, he sat in the dining area, keeping his posture relaxed, giving the impression he was another ski bum taking a break from the ski slopes. He watched for the man in fatigues and, seeing no sign of him, wondered if he’d turned around. Causing a commotion in a public area would be bad if he didn’t want to be found, and if the man was former Special Forces, he’d want to keep his cover.

  Susan exited the bathroom. She’d cleaned the dirt from her jacket and her hair hung over her face. Paper towels and water could work wonders, although seeing Susan with some wilderness on her had been a turn-on. Susan was usually put together and he’d liked the earthy touch of dirt smudges on her cheeks.

  She crossed the room to him and sat. “Any sign of him?”

  “Not yet.”

  She looked over her shoulders. “At least it’s warmer in here.”

  Without the wind and falling snow and with Susan at his side, Brady almost felt at ease. The throbbing in his knee had turned to an ache.

  “We can wait for a bit, and then I’ll get us a room. We’ll rest and think of a plan.”

  A few hours later, Brady checked them into one of the resort’s rooms using his ID and cash from the stash pack. He also purchased a ski lift ticket. Better to look like a skier than raise questions about why he was visiting the resort.

  After spending time in the snow and cold without easy access to food and shelter, watching their backs for whoever was following them, being inside the warm, albeit small, resort room was a welcomed change. Brady was physically and mentally exhausted. His knee was sore and he needed to rest. He was no good to Susan when he could barely walk.

  Brady rubbed his knee, hoping for the best, expecting the worst. He could have torn tendons or muscles. He could have strained it. Warnings from his physical therapist about overexerting his knee ran through his mind. He could be damaging it even more permanently. “If you want to take a shower, that’s fine,” he said. He wanted a hot soak for his knee, but he’d let Susan use the bathroom first.

  Susan’s eyes traced from his face to his knee. “How’s your knee feeling?”

  It was pointless to lie. “It’s been better.”

  Concern lit her face. “Why don’t you go first? Rest it in some hot water. Or is ice better? I can get ice to numb it.”

  Her willingness to help touched him. “Either might help. We can start with the heat. I’ll dye my hair first. Never know when we’ll have to move again.”

  Susan slipped her arm around his waist. His first instinct was to push her away and prove he could do it alone. He changed his mind and leaned on her. He wasn’t fooling her. He was hurting, and indulging in some TLC from Susan would help. He removed his shirt and Susan helped him color his hair and then rinse it in the sink. Then she ran the hot water into the bath. After a small hesitation, he threw care to the wind and undressed. She’d seen it all before. This situation felt less charged with sexual energy, more drawn from care and kindness.

  She helped him into the tub and knelt at the side. “How’s the temperature?” she asked.

  “Good,” he said, letting his head fall back against the wall. “I’m sorry this happened. I hate letting you down.” Letting her see him weak and hurting left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. If he’d tried to hide the pain, pretend he wasn’t hurt and press on, he didn’t know if he could trust his knee to hold up. He’d made the smarter—if not more difficult—choice.

  “You haven’t let me down,” Susan said, picking up a washcloth and wrapped bar of soap from the ledge of the tub. “If anything, I’ve let you down.”

  Failure. He understood the emotion if not her reasons to feel that way. “You haven’t let me down.”

  “I haven’t remembered that night,” Susan said.

  Their problems went beyond that. Though it might help, it may not explain why someone, or a group of people, wanted Susan dead.

  Susan peeled away the paper on the soap and rubbed it on the cloth.

  Brady watched Susan wash his chest, his arms and his lower abdomen. He didn’t apologize for his body’s reaction. Her hands moved over him, soft and gentle in a way he hadn’t experienced in months. When she reached his knee, she paused.

  “Tell me if I do anything to hurt you,” she said. “Is the heat helping?”

  It was and she was. She was helping in ways water or ice wouldn’t. “You’re being very kind.” He didn’t know the words to express what he was feeling. Gratitude? Desire?

  “After what you’ve done for me, I owe you. I’m behaving like a decent human being is all,” she said.

  He caught her wrist and her gaze swerved to his face. “You’re being more than decent.” He didn’t want her to blow off the magnitude of the emotion between them. That was his weapon of choice. He had walked out on her. He had hurt her. And here she was, taking care of him. It meant something to him and he couldn’t dismiss it.

  She blushed and returned to cleaning him. “Sometimes, I have too much to say to you and I can’t find the right words.”

  He understood. When he’d walked away from her, it had been one of the most painful decisions of his life. He hadn’t wanted to give her a reason to hold on to him, not when she deserved so much more and yet he hadn’t wanted to be brusque and hurt her. Finding the words had been difficult and he hadn’t chosen well.

  They lingered in the bathroom until the bath water had turned cold. Then he rinsed in the shower. Susan waited, holding out a towel for him. “Careful not to slip on the wet tiles.”

  She waited while he dried and helped him into one of the robes provided by the resort. He reveled in Susan indulging him.

  He vacated the bathroom for Susan to use. Brady lit a fire in the gas fireplace and turned the thermostat to a comfortable seventy-five degrees. When Susan joined him in the room, she was also sporting a fuzzy white robe and her newly darkened hair hung around her shoulders.

  “I like the color,” Brady said, hoping she didn’t hate it.

  “Black is darker than I’ve worn it. Not too bad, though. I can rock the tortured artist look for a while.”

  She was being a good sport. Brady loved that she was making the best of a bad situation. “You know how great it feels to be in this room after what we went through?” Brady asked.

  Susan made a sound of acknowledgment from her place on the plush chair in the corner of the room, her body slumped low in the chair.

  “I felt this way when I’d return from a tour overseas
and come to your place.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to mention it. To explain his actions? To earn her forgiveness for hurting her?

  Susan’s eyes opened wide. “You never told me that.”

  “I never told you a lot of things.” Which was part of their problem. It wasn’t enough to have a fiery connection with her in bed. He hadn’t viewed it as important to talk about problems and share his thoughts. He’d never been good with words and he figured actions expressed how he felt. Perhaps she needed the words.

  Crossing the room, he knelt at her feet and set his hands on her knees. “I’m sorry. I should have talked more.” He rubbed her inner thigh with his thumbs and her eyes flickered with expectation.

  She leaned forward, taking the lapels of his robe. “Where is this coming from?”

  Thinking about his life, how he’d dealt with relationships and how they’d ended made him reevaluate.

  “Walking in the wilderness gave me time to think.” The wilderness, time in the therapist’s chair and months of idle thoughts, thoughts too often centered on her. He’d been daydreaming about her and about making love with her. Taking her to bed played on his mind as a fantasy.

  “I should have sent you into the wilderness sooner,” she said, a hint of teasing in her voice. She ran her hand over his roughened jaw line and slid closer on the chair.

  He was grateful to have this time with the woman he desired above all others. He let his hands move higher up her thighs.

  “I’m getting it now. I am.”

  Her breathing accelerated and heat crackled between them. Brady rose and moved his hand to the back of her neck, bringing her mouth close to his.

  * * *

  Susan had seen glimpses of change in Brady, in his admissions and his brutal honesty. The dam of her restraint collapsed, scrubbing away more of her resentment and giving her new insight into Brady and their ravaged relationship. He was explaining in bits and pieces now more than she’d gotten before. Their relationship was changing. It wasn’t recycling the old. It was forming something new, something different from what they’d had before. She wanted to explore this newly opened side of Brady.

  Brady’s mouth moved seductively over hers. The prospect of letting the inferno rage between them, peeling away their clothes, tossing them to the ground and tumbling into bed was tempting. Susan reached for the belt of his robe. She loosened it and let the fabric and robe part in the middle. Brady was naked beneath it. The room was warm, the fire blazed and a shockingly sensuous feeling undulated over her.

  She ran her fingers over his shoulders, along his chest, down his rippling muscles. She’d never met a man whose body turned her on the way Brady’s did. The strength, the power and the control were a potent aphrodisiac.

  He lifted her into his arms and she looped her hands around his neck. Raw need pulsed from him and her body responded, straining to get closer. He set her on the bed and she pushed back to make room for him.

  His eyes blazed sex. What started as a kiss took on a life of its own. Combustible attraction ignited between them and she didn’t try to harness it. Susan went with it, following the current of her desires. At the moment, she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do than make love with Brady. She had no expectations, only curiosity. Her anger had dissipated and new understanding was refreshing, freeing. She wasn’t worried about a future or wondering where he was being shipped off to and when he would return.

  Without those worries, being in his arms felt lighter and carefree.

  Brady crawled into the bed and positioned himself over her. “I have thought about you so much over the last months.” He undid her belt. “When you came to see me in the hospital, you nearly broke me.”

  “Broke you?” she asked, grasping for the thread of the conversation.

  “If anyone could have gotten inside my head, it was you,” Brady said. “That scared me. That still scares me.”

  Why? Didn’t he want someone in his life who could help him? Someone to confide in? She shut down her questions. She wanted to stay in this moment and not lose herself in confusions from the past and queries of the future.

  Brady parted her robe and took his time letting his gaze roll over her. He let out a whispered breath. “I’ve missed you.”

  She pressed her lips to his and flicked her tongue against his lower lip. He parted his lips and returned her kiss, slow and unhurried. The experience was thoroughly arousing.

  Brady drew back, his nose brushing hers. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  His comment struck close to the truth. He’d hurt her in the past, but she’d learned. Back then, she’d wanted roses and romance. Now, she wanted Brady. He was working through problems. She had major problems of her own. This wasn’t about the future. It was about now.

  She kissed him again, not giving him a chance to say anything else. She didn’t want to explore the past.

  Brady leaned over her, one hand braced on the bed, one hand stroking her bare thigh. She slipped her hungry arms around his neck and pulled his body onto hers. She welcomed the weight of him.

  He shifted, positioning himself between her legs. Brady wrapped his arms around her, heating her against his big body. His skin was hot against hers and every last shred of cold fled.

  Susan ran her fingers to his hips. He took her hand, stilling her movement. A dozen emotions flickered across his face. She inhaled a quivering breath.

  “I want you naked,” he said.

  He removed his robe and she shrugged out of hers. She rolled over him, wanting to take control, to set the pace. Trailing her fingers over his body, her hands brushed the scarred flesh around his knee and Brady tensed.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  He reached for the blanket to cover his injury and she stopped him. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” She had seen his scars in the bath. They were part of who he was and he shouldn’t be ashamed of his battle wounds.

  She set her hand on his thigh and brought her mouth to her fingertips. She kissed the inside of his thigh. Brady’s breath hissed from his lungs.

  “How does this feel?” she asked.

  His fingers forked into her hair. “Good. Amazing.”

  Instead of kissing higher to where his arousal strained, she moved her mouth to his knee. He jerked and Susan moaned. Kissing him felt good. Everywhere her lips touched his skin, scarred or not, was a fierce turn-on. She lowered the blanket away from him.

  “Susan, stop.”

  No. She wouldn’t. He was a beautiful, strong, potent man and she was showing him that his scars weren’t ugly to her. She accepted him for who he was, not just the parts that were perfect and flawless. He was concerned about being strong, fast and at the top of his game. The reality was that he was flawed. She was flawed. Seeing and accepting those flaws was what deepened a relationship.

  She traced her hands over his skin. “Does this feel okay? Tell me if anything I do hurts you.”

  His gaze was transfixed as he watched her, though wariness touched the corners of his eyes. “You don’t have to make a point. You were kind enough in the bath.”

  Susan drew her body up, letting her breasts press into his chest. “This isn’t about being kind. The only point I’m making is that you’re hot. Every part of you. Every inch of your body makes me burn.”

  It was as if she’d flipped a switch in him. Wariness left his eyes and he flipped her onto her back in one fluid motion. He left her for a moment, pulled his wallet from the end table and then covered her body with his. He rubbed his arousal against her center and she arched, inviting him, wanting to draw him inside her.

  There was a crinkle of foil and without warning, or any more foreplay, he came into her, hard and deep. She was ready, wanting. She tilted her hips and spread her legs farther, adjusting to the size of him. He rocked i
nside her, filling her. Each time he plunged he felt bigger, thicker, harder. This was what she’d needed. This was what she’d wanted. The sensations were strong, blocking out everything else except Brady and how he was making her feel. Susan slammed her hips against his thrusts, meeting every glide with equal fervor.

  It felt so good she wanted to scream his name, nonsense, whatever came to mind. Brady captured her mouth with his and his tongue mimicked the actions of his lower half. Excitement escalated inside of her and she ran her fingers down his back, over the hard planes of his body.

  Her muscles clenched around him and Brady buried his face in her neck. He moved faster and the tension in his muscles increased. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on to him.

  “Susan.” Her name on his breath, hot and soft in her ear.

  Her body tipped over the edge of pleasure, trembling in mind-blowing waves of release. He joined her in an intimate explosion.

  Sated, Susan reveled in the weight of Brady’s body pinning her to the mattress. Susan didn’t want to move. She could have laid on the bed for hours, her body relaxed for the first time in days, and her mind at ease. Brady rolled to his side, their bodies joined, and he managed to tug the comforter around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth.

  A rush of emotions swelled in her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes and Susan closed them to keep Brady from seeing how much he had affected her. How much the experience had affected her.

  They lay in the quiet, lost in their thoughts and the rightness of the moment settled over her. Brady’s arms were around her, their legs intertwined. Her heart stirred and confusion careened through her. This had been about sex, yet she didn’t feel detached.

  Snuggling closer, she let out her breath and relaxed against Brady, tucking her arms between them. Some part of her broken heart had ached for this moment since the day he’d left. She succumbed to the sensations and memories and nestled deeper into his arms.